A Time of Changes

"How very fitting." She said quietly as she stripped the silver and gold rings from her finger and looked at the gemstones that fractured the light from the quarter moon. Then she pulled her arm back and threw them as far out into the water as she possibly could. They vanished instantly and she turned her back and walked away. That part of her life was over, and there was no going back.

————4————

For two days Candice kept to herself, enjoying her solitude. She ordered meals in her bungalow and kept clear of the dozen or so other patrons of the resort. She asked for no amenities or services and she spoke to no one. Each night as the sun was setting she took long walks back and forth up the private beach wearing little more than a pair of bikini bottoms or a sarong wrapped around her waist. There was something cleansing, liberating about her walks as if the wind off of the water was blowing away who she had been before she came here. She was silent and contemplative as she felt the soothing wind and heard the susurrus of the waves on the sand. She picked up pieces of coral and little shells and looked at them, then discarded them and moved on. She wanted nothing to weigh her down, nothing to add to her sense of being. Indeed, she cast off much while she was there and regretted none of it. Every gift that Gavin had ever given her was tossed away. Some she burned and others she gifted to the staff who brought her meals or cleaned her bungalow and soon she had just one left, a jewelled brooch that he had had made for her. She couldn't bear to part with it just yet and it sat on her dresser, sparkling in the light of day and she often found herself looking at it, but she couldn't bear to pick it up. It hurt too much to think of it and what it had once represented.

She went to sit on her patio with a book in the early evening of her third day and she looked up at the sound of an engine droning. She saw the sleek form of the seaplane circle in from the south and around to the north side of the island where the seaport was. It banked gracefully and in a few moments it was out of sight, though she could still hear the engines. She looked off into the distance for a while and soon she heard the sound of the plane change and then fade until it was gone and the day returned to the normally idyllic tranquillity that was the norm here. Smiling slightly she turned back to her book and read for a while until the sky had darkened and the dim lights of the bungalow came on automatically. She set her book aside and went to wrap a sarong around her waist before she made her regular evening trek down to the beach to feel the rush of the surf. The few other guests were all at the main hall of the resort and enjoying a social dinner, so she had the beach to herself as she walked along the soft white sand, feeling it like silk against her feet and the occasional warm rush of the surf over her skin. It was relaxing and she thought she could easily spend the rest of her life in this place and not have any regrets. The solitude and isolation suited her perfectly and the distance from anything she was familiar with soothed her aching heart.

As she walked, looking out to sea, the sun continued to fade and the night burgeoned. She felt soothed by the coming dark and she smiled slightly. Then she heard movement ahead of her and she glanced up to see a figure approaching along the shore. It was a man, by the build of his body, and he was jogging quickly along, head down and arms pumping and as he got closer she recognized the pilot. He was wearing just a pair of shorts and a MP3 player strapped to his upper arm, ear buds in as he ran along. He was sweating and really working himself. When he saw her, he slowed and his jog turned to a walk. She nodded in greeting and he smiled and nodded back as he removed the ear buds and hung them around his neck. She let her gaze rake across him and saw he was pleasantly athletic and neatly trim, with a broad chest and strong arms, long legs and a flat, chiseled stomach. She stopped when he got close and he followed suit. She felt a little anxious as she hadn't quite gotten used to walking around topless where people could see her just yet. But she steeled herself and kept her hands at her side by sheer force of will. The shy girl she had been was gone and she wanted to re-invent herself. She wanted to be daring and this was how she was going to do that.

"Mr. Nielson..." She said politely. "How was your day?"

"Pleasant enough. I just got back from a long commute. Taking a client from Miami back to his native Caracas, and then returning here. It's a beautiful flight, but long, nearly at the limit of the Maria's range." He explained and she nodded slightly. "So do you normally walk the beach during this time?"

"I do, the evening relaxes me and the changing of the sky as the sun sets is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. Why do you ask?" She was being pleasant, there was just something about the pilot that intrigued her and she was interested more than she was willing to admit.

"I'll adjust my routine so you can have the beach to yourself then." He said politely.

"Don't change anything on my account." She said with a shake of her head. "If I wanted that degree of isolation I would have returned to my bungalow when I saw you approaching. I don't mind if I see others, I've just wanted some time to myself after..."

She let that trail off as she looked from him out to the sea. The surf rushed and surged up over their feet and he looked her over. He noted that her rings were missing and his earlier thoughts that she was a married woman looking for discreet companionship away from her inattentive husband returned to him. He had the idea that she was a trophy wife, perhaps she had married for money, and her husband had other diversions now. But he dismissed his thoughts and looked out to sea with her. Her life was none of his business and it was always best if it stayed that way.

"If you want to see a beautiful sunset, you should make the climb to the observation tower on the other side of the island. On a clear day you can see all the way to Barbados and watching the sunset from there is spectacular." He suggested and she nodded slightly. "I'd be happy to take you up there if you are interested."

She wanted to smile, wanted to feel comfortable with him, but the pleasant feelings were unwelcome, and she pushed them away roughly, steeling herself against anything resembling affection for another person. She shoved them into the back of her mind as hard as she could and felt the chill of ice spread through her as she rebuffed him without thinking. She looked back at him with her lips turned up in a slight smile that did not touch her eyes.

"Are you inviting me out on a date, Mr. Nielson?" She asked and he sighed.

"Please, Candice, it's just Pen." He said with a smile.

"Well, Just Pen..." She said with her smile still in place but her eyes cold and hard. "If you had been asking me out on a date I might have said yes. But I doubt it." She let the words hang between them for a moment, then turned and started walking away without another word.

Pen stared at her back and shook his head. She was as prickly as a cactus and as cold as ice, but there was just something about her. He let her go without saying a word and then went back to his evening run along the beach. Candice Markham intrigued him, but it was very clear to him that the feeling was not reciprocated.

————5————

The next day Candice went up to the main hall and mingled with the other visitors. They were mostly men, and most of them in their sixties and seventies. They had a little interest in her, but after an initial ogling, they looked away again and went back to their bridge game. The few women that were there that time of year were of the same age as the men. Largely she had the place to herself as the other guests tended to confine themselves to the main hall and their bungalows, or to the weekly excursions to the various cities that the resort ferried them to on the seaplane. She was easily the youngest non-staff member on the island and it was all too easy to distance herself from the group, which she was thankful for. She guessed that they made the same assumptions everyone else did. A woman here by herself this time of year was either a mistress to someone wealthy, or an angry wife burning through her husband's checking account. None of them understood and she didn't care to even try to explain it to them. It wasn't their business, just as their lives and reasons were not hers.

She sat in the lounge in a comfortable chair with her book and sipped at deceptively sweet drinks that were mostly rum and ice as the murmur of conversation drifted around her. She was comfortable enough, and the staff kept a discreet distance, but still watched in case she needed anything. Her drink stayed full and when she was hungry a menu was provided. She chose something light and then returned to her book as the day went onward. The rest of the guests all retreated to the spa in the early afternoon and she was left with the main hall to herself for the evening. She read for another hour or two and then decided to go for a swim.

Returning to her bungalow, she deposited her sunglasses and book on the table and she went to the patio to start her walk down to the beach. But she paused when she saw the tall, dark haired form already down there. She stood and looked down the beach at him and when he saw her looking, he turned toward her and stood watching her for a long while. She returned his distant gaze steadily before she turned away and went back into her bungalow. Perhaps the pool would be more refreshing today. She sprayed herself down with sunscreen and padded out to the center of the resort where the spacious pool was pristine and empty and she slipped into the blessedly cool water and began cutting across it with a single-mindedness that would have shocked anyone who knew her.

————6————

Pen saw her; there was no way to miss her. He knew where every guest was housed and she was the only one with an ocean view bungalow. The rest of the guests were all elderly and all had bungalows around the pool, facing into the island and not out at the endless blue of the sea. There was that, and there was the fact that he had been looking for her. He wasn't really sure why, but he was. She intrigued him and he had the urge to see her again. He wanted to talk to her, but he didn't want to intrude. That was why he was on the beach today, hoping to 'Casually' run into her so they could chat. He knew that she was out of his league, knew that she was probably married, and knew that she had taken a dislike to him for some reason, but he didn't really care. He was interested in her and he had lost sleep thinking about her and he wanted to know why.

But she had come, taken one look at him and then turned away. When she retreated inside he swore and kicked the sand and turned back to the sea. He had no idea why she had rebuffed him so suddenly, why the warmth he had felt from her at first had turned so quickly and completely to ice. It was annoying him and he couldn't get past it. He knew that he shouldn't care, that he should just forget it, but he couldn't let it go. He took a running start and leapt into the surf, plunging into the comfortably warm waters and kicking powerfully against the rush of the water. He was a strong swimmer and his navy training allowed him to remain under far longer than a normal person. He plunged deep along the sand below the waves and stroked toward the gap in the reef ahead. He looked in among the coral and behind rocks until he found what he was looking for and he palmed it and let himself drift toward the surface. He felt a burn in his chest as his lungs burned for air, but he knew that he could remain another full minute under before he really had to worry so long as he didn't panic. He drifted and let bubbles escape his mouth as he drew closer and closer to the surface and when he reached the top he gasped for air, held his breath and righted himself so he was floating on his back, his treasure held in one hand as the waves carried him. He breathed carefully, not gulping for air or taking shallow breaths, just breathing normally if deeply.

He was far enough out that the waves wouldn't carry him in too quickly, and he kept a landmark of the island to one side as he rolled with the waves. The water soothed him and relaxed him and he enjoyed the roll and the rise of the surf. He felt the waves getting smaller and saw that he was drifting out, away from the island. With a little curse he turned over and stroked for the shore, swimming until he felt the waves swell under him as he got into the shallower water, then he braced himself and rode the wave in, not quite drifting and not really surfing, shifting so he was almost seated and when he felt the sand under his feet he put his feet down and let the waves push him upright so he was standing. He smiled at the feeling and the pleasant ache in his arms and legs from the exertion before he looked down at what he had brought up from the reef. He nodded a bit and walked toward the cabana. There were a few more things he needed.

————7————

When Candice returned from the pool she rinsed in the little shower on the lower level of her bungalow first, her hair slick and wet and her skin delightfully sensitive after the cool water of the pool. She shed the bikini bottoms and towelled off when she was done, then padded across her patio in just her skin, feeling warmed by the sun and wanting to be daring. Her heart raced as she thought that someone might see her, but she went on, turning the anxiety into something approaching excitement. She went to pick up her book and saw something else sitting on the table. It was an oyster, shell and all, as well as a piece of paper and what looked like a pocket knife. She was curious and she picked up the paper, an eyebrow raised in inquiry.

Candice.

This is a pearl oyster, the knife on the table there has a hook that is used to open it. Just use it carefully so you don't injure yourself.

Pen Nielson

She looked from the note to the oyster and then read the note again. After his name he had included directions on how to open the oyster safely. She smiled a bit in spite of herself and opened the knife carefully. The hook was the second one she tried and with a little practice she managed to get it under the lip of the oyster then gave a little twist and it came open amazingly easily. She gave a little laugh and set the knife aside. She lifted the oyster open and there was a little round pearl, not much bigger than the tip of her little finger. It was pale blue and flawless and she smiled as she lifted it out with her fingers and looked at it.

She looked out across the beach and saw him down there at the edge of the water, walking with a slow gait and she felt suddenly bad. She had treated him poorly and there was no real reason for it. The gesture he had made was sweet and thoughtful and she set the oyster back down, carried the pearl into her room and set it down inside the band of her watch on the dresser before she pulled on a pair of bikini bottoms again and fetched the knife. She closed it up and walked down to the beach.

She was perhaps halfway there when he spotted her. He stopped to watch as she approached and she felt sheepish as she got closer. When she was right in front of him, she held out the knife to him.

"Thank you, Pen. That was a wonderful gift." She said honestly. "And the least I can do is apologize for the way I treated you yesterday."

He shook his head and shrugged. "Nothing to apologize for, Candice." He said gently as he took the knife and tucked it into his pocket.

"No, there is. You were being nice, and I treated you poorly. You didn't deserve that. I was aiming something meant for someone else at you because you were convenient. You didn't deserve that." She said earnestly and he nodded.

"Well, apology accepted. But really I shouldn't have spoken the way I did. I mean, you're married and I was probably overstepping my bounds." He said. She laughed at that and hugged herself, her arms crossing under her breasts as she looked out across the sea.

"I was married, until about three weeks ago. My now ex-husband, Gavin Michael MacLeod served me divorce papers on June twenty-fifth, the day after our eight year anniversary. He had taken me out to dinner the night before, made love to me and told me I was the center of his world. He left for work the next morning and I haven't seen him since. I was served papers in front of all of my friends at a social event. He gave no reason, no notice and refused to answer my calls himself. I returned home to a moving van with all of my worldly goods in it and changed locks on the doors. I dealt with lawyers for four months trying to see him, but I never did. I agreed to the terms of the divorce and it was finalized two weeks ago today. I found out the day before I left for this trip that his mistress, a nineteen year old intern was proudly pregnant with his child and he had married her the day our divorce was finalized." She felt cold and hollow at the admission, but he didn't say anything. "It was painful, and I wanted to hurt someone the way he hurt me. You were convenient for the moment, and that was wrong of me."

He listened and felt horrible for her. He turned and stood beside her and stared out to sea.

"You may not believe me, but I understand how you feel." He said and she laughed a little. "I really do. You see I was a pilot in the navy. I was deployed to Afghanistan and my wife supported me, sent me videos and care packages and pictures. I was gone for more than a year and when I got back she was visibly pregnant. Needless to say our marriage didn't survive it. She cried so much, saying how lonely she had been, how badly she had needed someone to hold her, someone to come home to her at night." He felt bitter at the memory. "That was five years ago, I left the navy a year or so after our divorce, I just couldn't do that job anymore, I was too angry and that kind of anger does not belong at the controls of a jet with ten thousand pounds of munitions on board. When all you have is a hammer, every problem looks like a nail. And when all you have are bombs, everything looks like a target. I came close to dropping a bomb on a village where we thought there were Taliban, it would have killed everyone in the entire place, every man, woman, child and animal. We found out a week later that there were no insurgents there, it was a hospital. I gave my resignation the same day and it was a year before I flew anything more than a paper airplane again.

"They put it down as PTSD, but it wasn't, not really. I wanted to kill Joanna and her new husband and even their kid. When I was offered the job here I jumped at it and I have really relaxed and moved on. Joanna is happy with her new family, and I'm happy that she's happy, even if I still want to kill her sometimes."

She listened silently and felt his pain as acutely as her own. When he finished she smiled at him sadly. "You do understand my pain. And now I'm even sorrier for lashing out at you like I did. You didn't deserve it, and I wish I could take it back. But I can't take it back; all I can do is make it up to you. So will you take me up to watch the sunset?" She asked and he looked at her again, seeing her profile and her eyes shifted so she was looking at him while still facing the sea.

"Yeah, I can do that. If we go now we should get there just in time." He said and she nodded as they turned away from the sea.

The walk back up the beach was quiet and he kept watching her out of the corner of his eye as they went. She was silent and somewhat distant so he didn't speak. He led her through the resort, past the pool where the rest of the guests were all gathered for a game of bacchii ball and cocktails near a vigilantly tended fire pit. They passed around the side of the main hall and to a staircase that spiralled up and around the side of the building. They reached a rope bridge and crossed among the boughs of trees and above carefully tended foliage until they reached the observation tower. It was open and a short flight of spiral stairs led up to the room at the top. It was shaded and air conditioned and comfortably cool as they walked to the windows on the western side of the building and looked out. The day was late enough that they couldn't see anything but the sun and the sea and just as they were arriving the golden orb touched the far horizon and for just a moment Candice could see Barbados, some sixty or seventy miles away,